


wellspring

by goldearring (leoandsnake)



Series: 28/29 [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Ass Play, Band, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, I Love You, Insecure Liam, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoandsnake/pseuds/goldearring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Louis say "I love you" for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wellspring

It’s an unseasonably warm March. All the trees in all the London parks are gently budding, and Louis can smoke outside now without huddling against the wind.

Liam has all but moved into his house. This happened so gradually that they hardly noticed it; as the months wore on, three nights over a week grew to five, grew to six, grew to Liam’s toothbrush in his bathroom and his socks in Louis’ hamper, and that grew to a drawer full of Liam’s clothes and Liam’s dog patrolling the halls, his nails clicking on the hardwood floors.

Within the house, they grow far too complacent; they can’t seem to help it. It’s always been so easy to touch each other, and now it feels even easier. They’re intimate constantly -- Liam’s hands on Louis’ hips when he’s standing at the stove, moving him slightly to the left so he can fetch a spatula out of the drawer, Louis’ feet on Liam’s lap as he scrolls Twitter and Liam swears at a basketball game, constantly kissing each other on the cheek and the shoulders and the napes of each other’s necks, slipping into the shower with each other.

It should really have come as no surprise that Niall walked in on them. If it were to happen anywhere, it would happen here, in their nest of togetherness. It’s still a sickening reminder that this is really happening, with real-world consequences. For days after it happens, Louis feels as if he’s been woken by someone ripping his covers off on a cold winter day.

For a week or so after that debacle, they’re more subtle with each other, and less tactile. Their bodies are too drawn to each other to keep this up, though. The status quo reassembles itself. Liam sprawls over him at night like an octopus, his mouth pressed to Louis’ neck. He swats Louis’ arse in the hall and kisses down his back when he’s brushing his teeth. Louis gropes Liam’s cock while he’s on the phone with his mum, then cackles when Liam retaliates and dances away.

Louis is happier than he’s been in a year. His heart feels warm in his chest nearly all the time. It squeezes tenderly when he watches Liam from afar. He often just gazes at him for a while, smiling to himself as Liam squints with concentration at his laptop or laughs in exasperation playing with Watson.

After five straight years of seventy-hour work weeks, they’re both a bit unmoored and confused, and they cling to each other all the more for it. Louis has some publicity gigs in early March; it isn’t until he’s lying alone in a hotel room, smoking a spliff and feeling desperately lonely, that he realizes how attached he’s gotten to Liam. It gives him pause to consider, like he’s just skidded up on a cliff’s edge and is staring into the gorge below.

He looks at his phone, in the locked vault app he keeps in case of a hack. There’s only one photo of Liam in there. He took it in the wee hours after the AMAs, when they were high from performing and neither of them could sleep. Liam is laughing, shirtless, his skin shining and his hair mussed from the exertion of sex. The photo was taken enough darkness that you can hardly tell any of that from it, but Louis knows.

When he returns to London, he rings Liam as he’s halfway through his front foyer.

“Come over,” he says, before hello or anything else.

“Hi,” Liam says cheerfully. “You’re back, then?”

“Aye, I’m back, come over!” Louis urges, slinging his duffle off his shoulder and letting it thump to the floor. “Whatever you’re doing, set it down --”

“Love You Goodbye remix?”

“Yeah, trash that shit, come to mine, I need you,” Louis says, as he walks through the hallway, rubbing at his cock through his jeans. His voice sounds high and urgent in his own ears, and he clears his throat. “I miss you,” he says, softer.

“I miss you too,” Liam says back, breathlessly, like he was waiting to be allowed to say it. “Missed you like mad.”

“Well, I sort of reckoned, from the eighty Snapchats --”

“It was not eighty! And you broke our streak, by the way.”

“Oh, it was the time change,” Louis says, grinning. “Sorry, lad. Sorry, sorry. What were we at?”

“Near about a hundred, almost.”

“It was time then anyway. Alright, get on the road, will you? I need my boy.”

“On my way,” Liam promises.

He gets there in record time, Watson in tow, not even pretending like he isn’t going to stay the night. Louis meets him at the door and they kiss deeply, tenderly, Liam’s hands sinking into his hair straightaway and then going to Louis’ waist. Louis clings to his arms, his mood immediately improved. The house is brighter with Liam in it: birds chirp more musically outside, the air is clearer, he feels lighter on his feet.

“Hi,” Liam murmurs cutely, kissing his top lip, smiling broadly.

“Hi,” Louis whispers back, stroking Liam’s jaw and smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone. “Want to eat my arse?”

 

/

 

Liam practically drags him upstairs, manhandling him the entire way, much to Louis’ ardent delight. Liam begins to tickle him as they pass through the doorway. Louis slaps his hands away, hard, laughing, his skin tingling with excitement. He can’t wait to get Liam’s hands and tongue on him, he can’t wait for Liam to forcefully take him apart, inch by inch.

He collapses face-down on the bed and immediately tugs his jeans off his hips, and then his pants as well. He acts with a mechanical ferocity, wanting Liam on him as soon as humanly possible, almost unable to stand the intervening time. Liam is moving at a pace more slow and romantic, and it’s killing him.

“Get on it,” he chokes out, digging his fingers into a pillow.

Liam chuckles in his warm baritone. “You’ve got no patience,” he says fondly, his hands trailing down Louis’ back and over his hips, squeezing his bare arse in a strong grip. He trails his fingers lightly over the tramp stamp Louis got for him, and Louis shivers with pleasure and arches against the bed.

“Love…” Louis breathes. “Payno. Please.”

“I still can't believe you got that for me,” Liam murmurs.

Louis reaches behind himself and drags Liam’s tattooed hands off his arse and up his lower back, so the matching tattoos line up. Liam’s fingers settle around the dip of his waist and squeeze. He then beautifully, obediently lowers his head down and flicks his tongue over Louis’ arsehole.

Louis moans and clutches at the sheets. For the last four days he hasn’t touched himself at all, wanting to have a more satisfying reunion with Liam. He’s hard like a teenager now.

“Make me come just from this,” he says. “Don’t touch me. Just this.”

“Shit, alright,” Liam says, in a voice low and ragged with arousal and intimacy. The muscles in Louis’ pelvis and gut squeeze warmly just from the sound of it.

He begins to eat Louis’ arse in earnest, and Louis writhes against the bed, his body thrumming with frantic need. Liam got the lube at some point, and he teases him with a slick finger; Louis gives a broken exhale and begs him yes, yes. Liam slides it inside and rubs at his prostate. Darkness explodes behind Louis’ eyelids, and he moans louder and more frantically.

“Jesus,” Liam laughs, clearly turned on by it.

“They asked me if I’m datin’ anybody,” Louis murmurs against the bed, his voice reedy and throaty in equal measure. “And I wanted so bad… fuck, it’d have been so funny… to go like, _Remember Liam? Fucks me damn near every night now… If that counts..._ ”

Liam responds to this by slipping his tongue inside of Louis. Louis gasps and arches his back. His lower back is spasming with the stimulation and the contractions of the muscles in his pelvis radiate out powerfully, filling him with the most incredible feeling, like he’s about to have one of the best orgasms he’s had in ages and also might tumble sideways off of the spinning earth at any moment.

“It counts,” Liam whispers against his sensitive skin, and then slides another finger into him.

“Ohhh, fuck,” Louis gasps passionately, “fuck, fuck, what the fuck --”

His muscles yield and clutch against Liam’s fingers, and his thighs and abdominals quake and tremble as Liam’s warm tongue continues to obscenely, eagerly flick over his arsehole. He’s so hard against the bed, his cock throbbing and leaking as Liam works him over.

Louis sighs in ecstasy. This is exactly what he wanted, exactly what he waited for and was patient for -- his mind no longer working, just animal instinct and the white-hot arousal of being taken apart by Liam, one of Liam’s big hands holding him in place while the other rubs two-fingered at that little orgasmic spot inside of him.

He feels such gratitude and adoration of Liam right now. No one else could do him like this. No one else knows exactly what he needs and exactly how he needs it. His muscles are so relaxed he’s like rubber on the bed, sprawled, the soft sounds he’s making growing lower in pitch as he gets closer to orgasm.

“Please,” Louis chokes out, unsure of what he’s even asking for.

Liam knows. Liam sits up from eating him out, rolls him onto his side and pushes a third finger into him. Louis lets out a small cry and nods vigorously. Liam fingers him harder, more intently and with even more passion, pressing his thigh against the back of his hand to penetrate deeper into Louis. He lets out a soft groan of appreciation correspondent to Louis’ moans and sighs.

Louis finally comes, in an incredible way that whites out his entire mind, with powerful throbs of muscle contractions radiating out through his pelvis. His arms go limp, and he feels more spasms at the base of his spine and wonderful throbs deep in his cock. He clutches at the sheets, gasping, “I love you, I love you, God, I fucking -- fuck --”

Liam’s fingers stop. The entire world stops.

Louis rapidly comes back into his own head, the fogginess at the edges of his vision clearing.

“Oh fuck,” he says. “Shit. Fuck. I didn’t --”

“Wait, Louis --”

“I need --”

Louis gets up frantically, pushing Liam gently off of him even as Liam begs for him to stop and come back. He pulls some joggers and a tee on, not even bothering with pants, fumbling for a pack of cigarettes in his jacket and heading out the hall and down the stairs. He snatches a lighter off the kitchen counter and then heads toward the back.

He lies down on his back in the grass, amongst his footballs. His heart pounds sickeningly in his chest. He can feel his own come drying on his leg.

Louis feels frozen. He’s barely able to bring a cigarette to his lips and light it. He stares up at the canopy of trees and the sky beyond it.

He loves Liam, of course he loves Liam, he tells him so all the time. They said it to each other at Sheffield when they hugged, clutching each other close, and this before anything had even happened between them. Liam tells him even more often -- every time he does something particularly funny or out of turn. When he had snapped back at the paparazzi on Liam’s behalf, he’d gotten a text from him that night: _I love u, you know that?_ and Louis had said _of course I do._

When Louis had fought tooth and nail for Liam’s honor after the unpopular decision to cancel that one OTRA date, they’d been sitting on a couch watching TV, Liam’s head resting on his shoulder as he fought off a horrendous headache -- and Liam had murmured, “Hey... I love you,” to which Louis had very casually replied, “Love you too, mate, and don’t worry about tonight, alright?”

Louis didn’t mean it that way this time, he could tell. They both could tell. The way he said it was entirely different, in a way they both recognize.

He thinks it could be plausibly explained away by his orgasm -- he’s said it to girls when he didn’t quite mean it yet, he thinks everyone has or nearly has. Everyone knows that during excellent sex your inhibitions fall to tatters, that _I love fucking you_ can get lost on its way through your mind and arrive ready and poised on your lips as _I love you_.

This isn’t that, Louis knows. He meant it, sincerely. He doesn’t just love Liam anymore, he’s fallen in love with Liam. _In, with._ He drags hard on his cigarette, clenching his teeth together after he exhales, swearing quietly into the mild air.

The patio door scrapes in its track as it opens. Louis shuts his eyes, steeling himself.

Liam walks over to him slowly, hands in his pockets, almost shuffling, like he’s embarrassed. Louis feels sick. He thinks Liam must feel the same way, but the possibility that he doesn’t is bearing painfully down on his chest and making him terrified and nauseated. He can’t live in a world where a feeling this intense, with this many potential ramifications attached, is not reciprocated.

Liam lies down next to him in silence. He reaches his hand out, and Louis passes him the cigarette. He takes a long puff and hands it back.

“You brush your teeth?” Louis mutters, for a lack of anything else to say.

Liam glances at him, surprised, then starts laughing and nods. Louis takes another drag.

“Did you mean that like I think you did?” Liam says, his voice very soft. He looks painfully vulnerable.

Louis rubs hard at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“I, uh,” he says hoarsely. “How d’you think I meant it?”

“I think... you meant, like, you’re in love with me?” Liam says. Louis hasn’t heard him sound this unsure of himself in years.

He sighs heavily. He knows he can’t be anything but honest. His ego can take the blow, and Liam’s can’t.

“I am,” Louis confesses. “I’m… aye, I’m in love with you. The real deal.”

“Thank God,” Liam breathes, rolling over and wrapping an arm around him. Louis leans into his touch, overwhelmingly grateful for it. He snuffs his cigarette and looks up into Liam’s dark eyes, waiting.

“I feel the same way,” Liam says, softly. “Think I have for like -- a while, really.”

Louis caresses his face, his heart quickening with a hundred different emotions.

“What the fuck are we doing, Payno?” he whispers. Liam laughs, hard.

“I dunno,” Liam admits. “Nothing particularly intelligent, that’s for sure.”

His smile is Louis’ favorite thing to see. He just looks at Liam for a moment, stroking his stubbly cheek with his thumb as Liam gazes at him.

“I love you,” he says, to his face this time. His voice sounds strange in his ears; breathy and hesitant.

“I love you,” Liam says back to him, almost instantly, his face glowing with happiness.

 

/

 

Louis is quiet for most of the rest of the day, working overtime inside of his own head to stop himself from thinking too hard.

Liam is patient with him. They go about the evening in comfortable silence, and he doesn’t prod him. The only indication that he wants to talk is the sidelong, worried glances he gives Louis, his eyes round and his eyebrows knit. He looks at him quickly and then immediately looks back at his laptop, or the stove, or whatever. Louis pretends not to notice these. He keeps pretending to be engrossed by his phone, even though he’s too distracted and preoccupied to read properly. A single text takes him around a half hour to respond to.

Liam’s nearly finished making them dinner when Louis sets down his beer and says, “Alright.”

He says it with a finality that doesn’t make sense considering there was no verbal lead-up to it, but he means it as an indication that his brain has finished processing, and Liam seems to take it this way.

He sets down the spatula and turns to Louis. “Alright?” he says, a bit cheekily, and smiles at him. Louis’ heart warms, and he feels grateful for him.

“Went a bit catatonic on me,” Liam says, worrying at his lip with his top teeth.

“I’m good,” Louis says, quietly. He slides off his stool and approaches Liam, taking him by the hips, then slowly sinks down to his knees. He grins mischievously up at him as he does this.

Liam’s eyes widen, and he smiles, then reaches behind himself and fumbles to turn the burner off. “Thought you didn’t like that, much?”

“I like _you_ ,” Louis demurs, tugging Liam’s jeans down off his arse. Liam helps him by quickly undoing his belt and then dropping his boxers, as well. He’s soft, but Louis gets him up quickly. Liam runs his hands through Louis’ hair as he does, shifting his back against the counter and letting out soft sighs.

“You could just keep -- _ahh_ \-- just this is good,” Liam says, as Louis continues to work him over with his small, quick hands.

Louis shakes his head. “Will you be quiet and let me blow you, for fuck’s sake?”

Liam laughs hard, and then leans back. “Right, go for it,” he murmurs, and grips Louis hard by the hair, which he knows from precedent gets Louis all excited.

Louis doesn't usually take him very deep, as he doesn't think he's constituted for it, but he brings the same enthusiasm to cocksucking as he does to everything else. He loves the hitch in Liam's throat when he initially takes him in his mouth, and the soft groans he makes when Louis gets underway, licking and sucking at him with abandon.

He teases Liam, dragging his tongue slowly over the head and across the slit, rubbing at his balls, nuzzling at his thighs. He takes him whole for a bit and just sucks on him, letting Liam see the saliva that runs down his chin, and Liam gasps and tightens his fist even harder in Louis’ hair. Louis’ cock throbs at this.

“You look so good,” Liam gasps, and Louis smiles wickedly up at him. It’s nice, allowing himself to think that this is the man he loves.

He keeps at him with dogged single-mindedness, sucking Liam at least as eagerly as Liam sucks him.

When Liam comes it's utterly gratifying in how passionate he is about it; he writhes against the counter, groaning and swearing, and yanks on Louis’ hair very hard. Louis’ eyes tear up with the sting of it and the sharp taste and aroma of semen as it fills his mouth.

“God, sorry, sorry,” Liam pants, releasing his hair immediately. Louis stands up and spits in the sink. “Forget my strength, sometimes.”

“No worries,” Louis tells him with a grin. “I can take it, I'm Northern.”

Liam strokes his head apologetically. Louis slips into his arms and kisses Liam on the jaw; Liam holds him close, kissing the crown of his head and stroking his back.

“Hi angel,” Liam says softly, running his fingers over Louis’ shoulderblades through his shirt.

Louis smiles. He likes when Liam calls him that; he does it so tenderly.

“Hi, love,” he says back. They snog for a while, despite Louis’ come-wet mouth and the food going cold on the stove. Liam touches him reverently, and he touches Liam greedily back.

 

/

 

That night they lie in bed on their phones. Louis yawns as he answers boring emails.

Liam seems to be the one mulling something over, now. Louis can see him open his mouth to start talking and then close it again as if he's decided against it. Louis just lets him do this, pushing off his bedtime, waiting patiently.

“So…” Liam finally says. Louis sets his phone down on the bed between them and glances over at him.

“When d’you think…”

He fiddles with the comforter, his face drawn in perturbed concentration, and then bites his lip.

“Hey,” Louis says to him gently. “It’s just _me,_ innit? Chill out.”

Liam laughs softly. “Um… when d’you think you started feeling like that about me?”

Louis gives him an incredulous look. “Really? I’m supposed to be able to put a timestamp on it?”

“I’m just curious!” Liam says defensively, putting his hands up.

Louis scratches at his beard, then slides down against the pillows and folds his arms. “S’pose, like… the normal timeline for me, I dunno, but faster, since, like… we knew each other so well, and we pined at each other for a while before we got together. I usually get serious like, six months in, so I s’pose it was round five, this time? I can’t put a date on it. I guess when you started sleeping over all the time, I started feeling properly serious about us. When I talked to Niall about us, I remember wondering if I was falling for you.”

Watson is asleep in his bed on the floor, and he makes a funny noise. Louis laughs, but Liam doesn’t, so Louis glances over at him. He’s squinting at nothing in particular, his jaw tight.

“Hey,” Louis says, patting him on the arm.

“I’m fine,” Liam assures him. “I’m just thinking…”

He looks up at Louis, seeming to be coming over insecure. Louis tilts his head and gives him a smile.

“I get serious too quick, I think,” Liam admits.

“Ohh,” Louis says, amused. “Lad. I know that, alright? I quite like that about you, actually.”

“Really?” Liam says, raising his eyebrows. “Doesn’t scare you?”

Louis laughs very hard, which seems to bring Liam some relief.

“Scared of what, exactly?” he says, grinning. “You dumbarse. Jesus. C’mere, would you?”

He pulls Liam’s head to his chest, and Liam settles down onto his lap. Louis strokes his hair.

“It’s so confusing,” Liam says, woebegone. “This entire thing. I’m so fucking confused.”

“We’re figuring it out,” he murmurs, gently trailing his fingers through Liam’s thick hair. “One day at a time. Good thing this happened right as we started the break, yeah?”

“Oh my God, I know,” Liam says with a snort. “Imagine being on tour right now.”

“Don’t even say that,” Louis admonishes.

“I suppose this has happened to people before,” Liam says slowly.

Louis closes his eyes, getting comfortable against the pillows, beginning to feel fatigue from all the traveling, sexual exploits and emotional revelations of the day.

“I’m absolutely sure it has,” he murmurs.

They lie there for a while without talking, both engrossed in their own thoughts. Louis' eyelids get heavier and heavier, and he falls asleep, very much so without meaning to. When he wakes he’s got a crick in his neck from sleeping so high up on his pillows. The sun is barely up, and the light in his room is strange and milky. Liam has a paused game of Battlefield 4 up on the TV, and is on the phone.

Louis comes out of sleep slowly; he was haunted all night by strange dreams that slip away from him as he tries to recall them. He concentrates on Liam’s deep voice, which is softer than usual, presumably not to wake him. He reaches out and taps Liam on the arm, then when he turns, waves hello.

“G’morning, sunshine,” Liam whispers.

Louis is surprised by this, and a little concerned. “Who’s on the phone?” he mouths, squinting at him.

“Niall,” Liam assures him. "Talking about the lads holiday."

Louis’ heart stirs anxiously in his chest at remembering yet again that Niall knows about them. He wonders how it looks from Niall’s perspective, if he imagines them going about their day, or ever wishes he could discuss it with Harry, or anything. They’ve hardly spoken about it since that day last month; a week or so ago at a bar, Niall had turned to him and said, “So how’s -- how’re, uh, things?” with a delicate emphasis on _things_ , and Louis had just shrugged and said, “Good.”

Liam talks for a bit longer, and Louis just watches him. When he’s done, Liam rolls over and lies on top of him, caging him in with his arms and giving him a wet willy. Louis protests this loudly while laughing his arse off, struggling under Liam but not getting much of anywhere.

“Bastard,” Louis says, grinning, and Liam kisses him all over his face and jaw.

“I love you,” he says brightly.

“Going to say that all the time now, aren’t you?” Louis whispers against his throat, and then bites him gently.

Liam nods, rubbing their foreheads together. “Is that a problem?”

Louis pretends to seriously consider this.

“Nope,” he chirps, then while he’s got Liam distracted, rolls over so he falls to his side on the bed and begins tickling him mercilessly.


End file.
